


Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beta Derek Hale, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Canon Divergence, Comfort, Comforting Derek, Coming Out, Description of a rape happened in the past, Erotic Dreams, Eventual Smut, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Kinda Slow Build, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Derek, Stiles Stilinski Doesn't Know About Werewolves, Stiles Stilinski Has Nightmares, Teen Derek Hale, Teen Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Trauma, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:45:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Stiles Stilinski is a transfer student to Beacon Hills High when his father becomes the new sheriff. By chance, he becomes friends with one of Beacon's most acclaimed (and mysterious) athletes. He and Derek Hale have more in common than just their classes. They each have secrets.Over time, they learn to trust each other until one fateful night they realize their relationship may have progressed well out of the friend zone.





	Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on real events in my life (supernatural aspects aside of course). I've just applied them to these characters.  
> There is a description of Stiles' rape as in the tags. If this is a trigger please don't read.

_"The ice is thin come on dive in  
Underneath my lucid skin   
The cold is lost forgotten... " _

**Every night since June-**

**“The Nightmares”** _  
  
_The sheet barely covers Stiles, but he is sweltering. His legs twitch, one bent under the other at an odd angle. His face is locked in a grimace, eyelids fluttering.   
When he wakes, panting and drenched in sweat, Stiles is screaming. He rolls over and two round tears plop from his long lashes. He tries to blink away the others but they just keep coming and blur his vision. He breaks down sobbing as he clutches his pillow to his chest.   
There aren’t enough tears to wash this pain away.  
_  
-  
  
_**October-  
“Physics lab”**

Stiles drops his books on the lab table and sticks his backpack under the seat. He chews on his pen cap nervously, his incisors fitting perfectly into the little dents his previous neurotic sessions have left.   
Mr. Park is babbling on about something and Stiles is not paying attention. He’s distracted as usual.   
Round, russet eyes admire the red-headed girl two rows up. She’s chatting with a dark-haired senior named Jackson. Unfortunately for Stiles, he knows all too well who Jackson is.   
  
Long, painted fingernails graze Jackson’s thigh, near his dick, and he smirks at the girl with a gaze that says he‘ll tear her clothes off at the first opportunity. Stiles thinks he’d respect her more than that.  
But what does he know? He’s never even kissed anyone.  
  
Stiles sighs.   
“Still pining?” Derek Hale slides onto the bench next to the brunette and shakes his head.   
“Forget it, dude. They’ve been dating since her freshman year. No offense, but you don’t stand a chance.”   
Stiles’ lab partner isn’t one to sugar coat anything. His bright moss-green eyes reflect that spark of wit and sarcasm that Stiles has grown to appreciate. (Much like his own personality, which is why he and Derek have become good friends).   
When they first met in two of their AP classes, they happened to sit next to one another. Perhaps because most of the class were either couples or best friends, the two were left with an empty bench and very little say in the matter of seating.   
Perhaps opposites do attract? Derek and Stiles are an unlikely match for companionship, without a doubt. Their worlds don’t exactly coincide. But circumstance put them together and after some uncomfortable first days, (Derek is rather quiet and Stiles doesn’t shut up), the raven-haired boy warmed to Stiles’ quirkiness. When they did their first lab together, he noticed how cute Stiles was, with his exaggerated movements and endearing clumsiness. (After a nearly disastrous mishap with a pulley, Stiles is now the official scribe, and it’s Derek who runs all the experiments).   
  
The brunette rolls his head in Derek’s direction and frowns. Something in his face unveils a deeper sadness and Derek’s senses heighten to his scent.  
“I know. I know you’re right. She probably doesn’t even know I exist. I mean, what am I thinking? I transferred in two months ago. He’s captain of the lacrosse team and he looks like he’s on the cover of Men’s Health. I’m…well… me.” Fingers indicate his body and Derek doesn’t mind looking.  
“And I sit on the bench, Derek. THE BENCH.”   
Derek reaches for his notebook and “accidentally” touches Stiles’ arm. Derek’s heart skips a beat. Stiles’ skin is so silky. There’s a ball of heat in the pit of his stomach. It's been growing.   
  
Stiles looks at the spot, the ghost touch remaining. Derek’s hand is unusually warm. He must run hot. Unlike some people whose feel reflects their soul. Cold and unforgiving.  
His mind wanders back, to the bruises that are a memory now but only three months ago stained his skin. The cold press of unwanted flesh is not easily forgotten even if the coloring fades.  
“Has it been three?” Stiles asks himself. It feels like yesterday. It always feels like yesterday. A shiver goes down his spine and he feels a sudden need to rub fatigue from his eyes.   
  
Derek pretends to search for the correct page in his textbook, gutted that Stiles looked as if his touch disgusted him. But he doesn’t know. Derek doesn’t know yet what Stiles went through.   
  
Young Derek Hale, regardless of his patrimony, is not like his family members. Especially not like his mother and her brother. The Hales may be one of Beacon’s richest families, but they are certainly not the most liked in town. Derek must have inherited a lot from his father because he’s actually compassionate and loving. He may not show it easily and freely, but he is.   
  
“Look, they’re a power couple at this school, Stiles. Pretty… like “out of an Abercrombie catalog make me want to puke” pretty. And rich. I should know, his father golfs with my father. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Stiles… I mean, you’re a catch. You’re handsome and smart and witty. There are plenty of other people at this school who would kill to go out with you.”   
Pause for effect. _Oh Jesus why did I compliment him so much?!_ Derek’s hands suddenly feel clammy. _  
_  
Stiles, again, was distracted. He only partially heard what was said and doesn’t even notice Derek’s elevator eyes because he’s still staring at Lydia.   
“If there are, Der, you let me know because right now the only people I even talk to are you and Scott McCall. Plus you’re hotter than Jackson, it’s like you all belong to the Secret Hot Guys club or something. I want in, Derek. I want in!”   
  
Stiles breaks into a soft chuckle and Derek follows, twisting the plastic bracelet he wears between his fingers.  
“There is no Secret Hot Guys club, Stiles. But if there was you’d be in it for sure.”  
“Aww, thanks buddy.” Stiles pats Derek on the back and the boy exhales in disappointment. _Buddy?  
_  
“Oh!” Stiles is hungry. Nerves make him crave sugar. “Hey, you want some Skittles?”  
Derek watches Stiles’ mouth wrap around the pen cap and he shifts uncomfortably. Stiles really does have beautiful lips…   
_Stop it, Derek._   
“Yeah, love some.”  
  
Stiles fishes in his backpack and pulls out the candy. He nearly drops half on the floor as he opens the packet.   
The corners of Derek’s mouth must hurt because he’s honestly never smiled and laughed this much in his life. “Stiles is as sweet as the candy he’s always sharing,” Derek thinks.  
When there are lulls, he renders the not always “engaging” atmosphere of the classes a little more bearable with his jokes, too. Derek blushes, realizing his adoration for his lab partner has grown exponentially over the past month.  
As he chews on a mix of fruity saccharine in his mouth, Derek ponders that they’ve yet to hang out after school. He’s been thinking about it. Like he’s been thinking about Stiles.   
  
Ever since meeting Stiles, the boy’s days have become more enjoyable. Derek looks forward to seeing him. The sheriff’s son makes him feel at ease in his skin. It’s been a while since Derek let his guard down for someone.   
Derek isn’t one to show emotion, but around the brunette he smiles more often than he ever has. He even does so when he’s alone and thinking about something funny he said during the day.   
As good as Stiles is for Derek, the brunette has also benefited. Derek makes Stiles feel welcome and liked in a foreign environment. He enjoys the Hale boy’s company and has trusted him with his secret.   
(Like when he revealed he had a crush on Lydia Martin).   
  
The sugar rush helps, but physics isn’t exactly the most exciting subject. Stiles keeps yawning and Derek stretches repeatedly, trying to oxygenate himself.   
The AP Physics teacher is new… and boring. His monotone puts the whole class to sleep, especially Stiles who had yet another tormented night. Luckily, it’s a lab day which means the boys get a chance to chat some more (and have to listen to Mr. Park less).  
  
As they set up their experiment on Newton’s third law, Stiles notices Derek staring.   
“What? Do I have something on my face? Did I write on myself again?” He starts rubbing around his mouth.   
Derek panics at being caught and hides it with an embarrassed giggle.   
“Yes. Wait...” Stiles did NOT write on his face but Derek has to go through with the lie. 

Stiles rubs frantically with his index and middle fingers but can’t see himself.  
Derek laughs. “Dude.. It’s just… here let me get it.”  
The raven-haired cutie reaches out, gently cupping Stiles’ chin. He uses his thumb to fake clean near his plump top lip, using slow, soft movements.   
Derek gulps, unable to draw his gaze away. Stiles’ eyebrows knit. Something feels weird about this... but not exactly “bad” weird. It’s actually pleasant. Nice. The warmth against his face in a caring touch...

Derek pulls his hand away just in time as Jackson turns around and whispers “FAGGOTS.” Stiles catches it, Derek’s expression souring. 

“What’s he talking about?” 

Derek flips him off and Jackson laughs.   
“It’s nothing. Whittemore and I sort of hate each other and the rivalry between lacrosse and basketball is legendary.”   
Stiles scratches his head. “He shouldn’t use that word. We’re not in the fucking Middle Ages.”   
Derek shrugs it off but the truth behind it stings. He’s not exactly “out” at school.   
“He’s an asshole. Come on, forget about him and let’s do the first exercise.”

Derek takes the measurement and Stiles yawns cutely as he notes the figures. 

“Stiles, you look exhausted. Have you been getting enough sleep?”   
Stiles bites into his lower lip. “Not really. I’ve been… having really bad nightmares since summer. So it’s been hard to feel rested. Not even my meds help.” 

Derek nods, and before he can change his mind, he blurts it out.   
“Hey, do you want to hang out tomorrow night? My house? It’s a Saturday. You can stay over if you want, maybe a change of scenery will help you sleep.”   
He grins and for the first time Stiles notices what a beautiful smile he has. Such cute little front teeth protruding just a bit over the otherwise straight line of his bite.   
_Please say yes!  
_  
Stiles is taken aback. They’ve never really done anything socially. Stiles didn’t expect Derek to be interested enough in his friendship to want to see him also in his private life. But they have been friends for two months now…so why not?  
“Yeah, sure. Where do you live?”   
Derek is beaming. “Barrington. On the outskirts of Beacon. My mother raises horses, it’s that huge place near the woods.”  
Of course, Derek Hale would live in a mansion in one of the richest neighborhoods in Beacon Hills. Stiles’ father had told him about the Hales. Derek comes from old money. His surname is an institution in the entire county, associated with real estate and horse breeding.  
What his Dad failed to mention is that Derek is gorgeous, popular, and happens to be captain of the basketball team. He and Stiles couldn’t be more different.   
Stiles, instead, is the new sheriff’s son. They are absolutely not wealthy at all; they live on the other side of the tracks, like something straight out of a John Hughes film. And Stiles is definitely not an athlete … or popular. He’s kind of a spazoid with a really high IQ.   
  
“Are you sure you don’t want to hang out at my house? My Dad works nights, we can make more noise and stuff if you want to play video games or watch scary movies. I don’t live in a mansion but… plus I kind of have trouble sleeping in new places. I’m not entirely sure a change of scenery would help.“  
Derek grins widely. “Yeah, okay. My little sister would probably bug us, anyway.” _Who wouldn’t want to be alone with you all night?_  
Stiles squints as he writes in the next number.   
“You have a sister?”  
“Mmhm. Two. Laura’s in college and then there’s Cora. She’s in middle school and kind of a pain in the ass.”  
Stiles sticks the pencil behind his ear and hands the paper to Derek. “Your turn. Last one. Oh, I’m an only child. It’s just me and my Dad.”  
  
Derek has an inkling. He heard his mother talking about the Stilinskis. Rumor has it Stiles’ Mom killed herself, leaving the Sheriff to raise Stiles alone.  
Talia Hale is a huge gossip, and if Derek says so himself, not the nicest person in the world. Perhaps he’s trying to compensate for that by not acting like the privileged brat everyone expects him to be. He’s never been proud of his last name, especially with the legacy they have in this town for being ruthless.   
  
Speaking of privileged brats, the bell rings ten minutes later as the guys are putting away the equipment. Derek, with Stiles following, makes it a point to walk past Jackson. He bumps into him on purpose.   
Jackson may be well-built, but Derek is taller and naturally more athletic, with broader shoulders and thicker biceps.   
“Whittemore, you ever call us faggots again you'll be picking up your teeth off the locker room floor.”  
Jackson fails at looking tough though his clenched jaw underlines all his anger issues.   
“I just called you what you are, Hale.”  
Derek’s nostrils flare and he lowers his nose until it’s almost touching Jackson’s. Lydia puts her hand on his shoulder and reprimands him. Her pillow lips are pursed.  
“Jackson, stop it! Can you not act like an asshole just ONCE?!”  
  
Stiles is frozen, not sure if he should speak up or not. This seems like an old beef he shouldn’t get involved in. But Jackson did call them that awful name…  
  
Derek is unfazed, except for the look of death he’s giving the shorter boy. In his most even voice he replies “I suggest you forget I and Stiles exist or my father just might hear about what happened that weekend at the lake. And he might mention it to your father the next time they’re on the links. Don’t think my dad would care but I don’t know about Attorney David Whittemore, Esquire.”   
Jackson’s fists open and close at his sides and if this were a cartoon, there would be steam coming out of his ears.   
“Fuck you, Hale.”   
Derek bends even lower and screws up his beautiful eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”  
“Fuck you and your new bench-warming girlfriend.”  
Jackson grabs his backpack and shoots them both eye darts as he and Lydia leave. Lydia looks confused and Jackson literally bolts from the room before she can ask about it.   
“Bye Lydia,” Stiles waves awkwardly once she’s out of earshot. _His girlfriend? Why would he assume Derek and I are together?  
_  
Stiles beats on Derek’s shoulder, giggling.   
“Dude that was awesome! What do you have on him to make him shut up like that?!”  
Derek’s pulse is racing. He’s lucky he’s learned to control his rage.   
When they are out in the hallway and get to Derek’s locker, he stops and faces Stiles.   
“No one can know about this, but I trust you, Stiles.” The look on his face makes Stiles believe he means it.   
Stiles crosses his index finger over his heart. “I swear I won’t say a word.”  
“Okay.”  
  
Derek pulls his Calc book out and replaces the Physics one. Without looking at Stiles, making sure the surrounding lockers are unoccupied, he leans in and murmurs a confession.   
“I’m gay, Stiles.”  
Stiles’ jaw drops. He wasn’t expecting _that_!! Derek continues.  
“A couple summers back, the Whittemores and the Hales were at the lake. Jackson and I weren’t fighting as badly then. He was already with Lydia, obviously. Well, we got into my father’s liquor cabinet and took some to the boathouse during a party our parents were having. We got kind of drunk and… Jackson blew me.”   
Stiles cheeks burn. He’s not sure what about this story is… affecting him so. Is it discovering DEREK HALE is gay? Or that Jackson…is…. whatever he is? And he did THAT to Derek!!   
Or is it that Stiles is somehow…envious?! The brunette’s mind is playing a series of images… what’s wrong with him?!   
_Oh god why am I imagining this blowjob?!_ Stiles realizes he’s yet to react verbally, though it’s hard to shake what his mental reel is projecting right now.  
  
Derek is fixated on him, kind of looking terrified.   
“Stiles? Did you hear what I said?”   
Stiles nods emphatically. “Heard. Heard.” He swallows hard. “Listen, Derek. Thank you for confiding in me. I won’t tell a soul, I swear.” A gentle squeeze of the shoulder for emphasis seems appropriate.   
“Thanks, Stiles. I appreciate it.”  
Derek closes his locker and they walk to their next class together, AP Calculus.   
  
“Sooooo,” Derek drags out the question, looking from Stiles to the floor. “It doesn’t weird you out that I’m…?”  
Stiles is the last person to judge anyone, especially over something they can’t control like sexual orientation. And he’s oddly intrigued if he’s being honest with himself.   
“Not at all. It’s cool actually. I mean you’re Derek Hale and it’s unexpected, but that’s what makes it awesome.”   
Derek looks relieved. He doesn’t know what he would have done had he lost Stiles over this.   
He’s been enjoying spending time with him and is beginning to consider him a true friend. Maybe even his best friend. Derek doesn’t really trust anyone at Beacon and the fact that he’d be willing to tell him his second darkest secret says a lot.   
“I’m glad, Stiles. You’re a good friend.”   
Stiles follows him into the classroom, and unconsciously checks out his perfect ass.   
_Wait, what am I doing?!_ As much as he tries not to look, his eyes travel there.  
  
**“The Next Evening at the Stilinski house”**

The boys are on Stiles’ living room floor, playing video games. They’re rowdy, and Stiles is cracking jokes so much that Derek’s belly hurts from laughing.   
Stiles’ dog watches them, his loving chocolate eyes studying the new person in the house. He licks Derek right on the knee, provoking a laugh.   
“Sam likes you. He normally doesn’t take to new people.”   
Derek gives him a scratch behind the ears. “Well, boxers are known to be gentle. Plus my family…let’s just say we get along with animals. Horses, cats… and _dogs_ especially.“  
  
Stiles looks over to the large pup and baby talks to him.   
“You like my friend, Derek, Sammy? Huh? That’s because you’re a good judge of character.”   
Stiles lets that one hang. Stiles steals a glance at Derek while he pets the dog. Derek heard him. He’s smiling to himself.  
Stiles isn’t sure what the hell he’s doing. He knows he likes having Derek around. He likes his personality and his contagious smile. Stiles notices how his aftershave lingers a bit in the air, without being obnoxious. And the way his little nose twitches…   
  
The Sheriff appears, breaking the brunette’s revery. He walks to the front door as he checks his pocket for his keys.  
“Boys, I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Anything you need just call the station or text me, okay?”  
Noah is happy to see that Stiles has made a friend. He seemed so depressed this summer, withdrawn and quiet. So unlike himself. The move and change of school were hard on him, but it appears the past couple months he’s happier. Lighter.   
“Derek, just to check… does your Mom know you’re here for the night?”   
Derek wants to quip “she probably won’t even notice I’m gone,” but he thinks the Sheriff won’t appreciate his humor. “Yes, sir. Mom and Dad know.”  
Noah smiles, body halfway out the door. “Okay then, have fun. Love you, son.”   
Stiles blushes just a bit. “Love you, Dad. Be safe.”   
Noah has an afterthought. “Oh, one more thing. You boys look really tired. Don’t stay up all night long, make sure you get some sleep, okay?”  
“Will do.”   
When the door shuts, Stiles pops up and walks over to the kitchen. Sam follows him, sitting on the threshold between the two rooms. He reads out the take-out menus they have hanging and grabs his phone.   
“So, I’ve got Dad’s credit card. What do you feel like eating?”  
Derek always has the same answer ready: “Pizza.”   
“Pizza it is.”   
\-   
Noah is right. They’re tired. Each of the boys did spend a restless night.   
Derek tossed and turned in fitful sleep, waking from an erotic dream where he was licking Stiles’ neck as he was jerking him off. A half-hard dick and sticky thighs were his reward for that, as he lay wondering if the brunette had thought about him at all since yesterday. Why did he care so much if he had?   
With a grunt, Derek flipped over, the dream still fresh in his mind even though he willed in other thoughts. He grabbed his pillow, panting heavily as he finished himself off in a second powerful orgasm, Stiles’ face painted on his eyelids.   
Chest heaving, he wiped himself down with his t-shirt and pulled the sheet up over his shoulders. His stomach churned, and he suddenly felt light-headed. Was it low blood sugar? Why did he feel so weak?  
He did his best to fall back asleep but visions of a chestnut-haired boy kept creeping back.   
It was official. Derek was in love with Stiles.

Stiles’ slumber was no less disturbed. He woke, as usual, wrapped in wet cotton with a shout on his lips. But this time the dream was different. Someone was there. Someone who was trying to help.   
One hand on his glistening forehead, Stiles breathed deeply to calm himself down. He had a sudden urge to call Derek but talked himself out of it.   
Derek. He couldn’t stop thinking about the boathouse story…   
Stiles’ dick was hot and throbbing in his pjs. He’d forgotten to put on underwear and the cotton was tenting. His hand stole down and he thumbed his slit, squeezing the shaft. To his surprise, instead of going to his usual daydream of doing something naked that involved Lydia, an image of Derek giving him a blowjob invaded his fantasy. As much as he tried to change protagonists, his mind kept bringing him back.   
Stiles came all over his hand, Derek’s chartreuse eyes burning into him the last thing he remembered before wiping himself clean and passing out.   
  
-

Both boys have put the previous night’s “events” into a safe, far corner. Derek is clearly taken with Stiles but he doesn’t want to ruin anything, especially since he believes Stiles is straight.   
Stiles, unbeknownst to Derek, is battling some inner confusion. He doesn’t really feel like giving himself an explanation for why he’s thought about Derek all day long. Denial is one of Stiles’ best played cards.   
  
“Wanna watch a movie? Do you like horror movies?”   
Derek nods, sipping his Coke. “Do you have Halloween? That’s my favorite.”   
Stiles grins as he sets it up. “Dude, me too! Although I’m into vamp and werewolf movies, too. I have to say the original slashers are the best though.”  
At the mention of the word “werewolf” Derek clears his throat. “So you like werewolves? That’s cool. Me too. I’m into all that supernatural stuff.” _If you only knew how much._  
Stiles nods passively, pressing play. “Also a good tv show.”  
Derek agrees. “Amazing tv show.”   
  
The movie starts and they sit a reasonable distance from each other on the sofa though if Derek moves an inch their legs may touch. Sam lies down near the edge of the rug and promptly falls asleep. After a while he’s snoring and Derek laughs.   
“Sam is such a loud snorer. Give him a nudge, Derek, or we won’t be able to hear the movie over him.”   
Derek touches the top of the dog’s head with his palm and after a few seconds the dog shifts position and falls silent.   
Stiles is surprised, cocking an eyebrow. “What are you, the dog whisperer?”  
Derek chuckles. “Yeah, something like that.”   
  
They continue enjoying the movie, commenting on the bad 70s special effects. About halfway through, Derek notices from the corner of his eye that Stiles has curled up and fallen asleep. His head is thrown back and his mouth is open. It’s the cutest thing ever.   
Derek reaches for the remote and stops the film. He grabs a red throw from the top of the sofa and throws it over them. Only their feet are in contact.   
He doesn’t fall asleep immediately. He watches Stiles slumber, smiling to himself. There is no place he’d rather be right now. (Well, maybe holding Stiles). There’s a twinge of sadness to his admission, but Derek believes he’d rather have Stiles like this than not at all.  
  
Several hours later, Derek perceives angst and terror in the air. When he opens his eyes, it’s to Stiles gasping awake, screaming something incomprehensible. Derek reaches out and grabs him instinctually.   
“Stiles, Stiles… it’s okay. You’re home. It’s just a nightmare. You’re safe…”   
Stiles is crying, hiccuping for breath, and for the first time he doesn’t wake in this state alone. Realizing that Derek is with him, he relaxes into his embrace and just allows himself to weep against his chest.   
Derek cradles his head and sways back and forth with him, telling him “shh” and “it’ll be okay” in a reassuring tone. Stiles’ hands fist into Derek’s shirt and he slowly calms down.  
Something about Derek’s touch makes him feel instantly better. Derek listens to his heart, trying to match it with his own to steady it.  
When he’s ready, Stiles lets go. He wipes his swollen eyes with the back of his hand, voice heavy with grief.   
“Stiles, what happened?” Derek has released him but reaches out and puts a palm over his hand. “What kind of nightmares are you having? Does this happen every night?”   
No wonder Stiles is always tired.   
The brunette sighs, nodding. “Yeah,” he sniffles. “Most nights.”   
Derek leans in, concern all over his face. He can feel Stiles’ pain from his touch and it’s heartbreaking.   
“Stiles, what’s causing this? What happened?”  
  
Sam has woken up and pattered over to Stiles, licking his free hand and whimpering. Stiles gives him a cuddle.   
It’s not easy for him. He’s never told anyone. He’s never put what transpired into spoken or written words.   
It all exists like a tragic film in the darkest parts of his mind. But Derek trusted him with his secret… maybe it would be good to finally tell someone?  
Stiles draws a deep breath.   
“Derek, I have to tell you something. It’s a secret, too. So like you asked me, I need you to please not tell anyone. Promise me.”  
“Of course.” Derek squeezes the trembling hand below his own. “I’ll take it to my grave.”   
  
Stiles clears his throat, shaking so much that his voice trembles with him. Derek really wants to hold him but lets him have his space.  
“Derek, last June… back in my old town. One night my Dad was away for a training. One of his colleagues told him he needed to drop something off for him. Dad said to come and leave it with me.”  
Stiles can barely articulate. “I opened the door for him and let him in. Seemed like a nice guy, I mean, he was supposed to be a cop, right? Uphold the law?”  
Derek’s blood pressure is rising. He senses where this is going.  
“I offered him something to drink. He said no, but that he needed to use the bathroom. He was acting funny, but I thought nothing of it. I waited in the kitchen, a glass of ice water waiting on the counter, just in case he changed his mind.”  
Stiles blinks away tears. His eyes plead with Derek and the boy’s heart is tearing in two. He squeezes Stiles’ hand. “Go on, Stiles. I’m right here.”  
“When he came back, he looked angry. I don’t know, he had changed. Like he’d taken a hit of coke or something. Something in his eyes scared me. He didn’t say a word, was just looking me up and down.  
He took the glass and held it, like for a minute, before drinking a bit from it. I felt so awkward and afraid, I just wanted him to leave so I walked to the door and said ‘I don’t want to keep you.’ When I turned my back…”  
Stiles feels like dry heaving. He’s literally quaking like he’s having some sort of episode. Derek grabs his other hand.  
“My back was turned, and I heard the glass shatter. I didn’t even have time to turn around. A shard was being pointed at my neck. The guy grabbed me by the collar and told me if I didn’t do what he said he’d cut me.”  
Derek’s fuming. He’s calling on everything he was ever taught to keep the beast at bay.  
“Oh my god, Stiles…” he whispers.  
Stiles bites into his lip, wavering. “I… he…”  
Derek reaches over and wipes the tears from his face. “Get it out, Stiles. I’m here. You’re safe.”  
Stiles nods, clasping Derek’s comforting hand once more.  
“He threw me to the kitchen floor. He didn’t need the glass, I was paralyzed by then. If only I could have called out, done something. I remember he held me down in the middle of my back as he undid his pants. I was wearing pajama bottoms. He yanked them down to my thighs. When he was… inside me, he…. He held me down really hard. One hand so cold… maybe from the ice water, bruising my forearm from the pressure. The other on my neck. My cheek to the tile floor, eyes shut tight. I could barely breathe and it hurt so bad. So bad I was seeing stars.”  
Stiles is sobbing again and Derek is on the verge of shift.  
“It seemed to last forever, Derek. So much pain and I was bleeding. When he was done, he got up, zipped his pants, and left. He said “Thanks for the water” as he walked out. Can you believe that?  
All I could do was lie there. I don’t know how long it took me to move. I dragged myself to the shower and just sat there under the hot spray, crying.”  
Stiles looks up and gasps. Derek is looking at him, tears falling down his cheeks, but his eyes are…yellow.  
“Derek…your …” he stutters, “Your eyes are…they’re yellow…”  
SHIT. Derek panics, covering his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Stiles” he mutters. “It’s ….” Derek can’t explain this. Not now. Not like this. “It’s a genetic thing in my family. Don’t be scared, it’s nothing. It’ll pass.”  
  
Stiles grabs Derek by the shoulders and centers him. “It’s okay, Der. It’s okay. I’m not scared. Don’t feel bad, it’s not something you can control. It was just, I wasn’t expecting to see them like that.” Stiles isn’t entirely buying this explanation, but what else can it be?!  
Derek’s lids fly open. They’re back to being green.  
“It can happen when I get upset. Or angry… your story Stiles. My god… why didn’t you get help? Tell your Dad? He was the police!”  
Derek wishes he could explain himself, but this isn’t his moment. This is about Stiles and the horrible thing he went through.  
“If I had, my Dad would be in prison right now for murdering a cop and I’d be an orphan.”  
“But you relive this every night in your dreams! My God, Stiles… “  
  
Stiles straightens himself, wiping his brow. “It’s okay, Der. I’ll be okay. It’s just still fresh. But every day it gets a little bit better.” _And since I met you I have a reason to smile again._   
“I got tested when we got to Beacon. It didn’t even dawn on me, he didn’t use anything and he had… he had come inside me. So far everything is negative so I guess I lucked out. The only thing is … I’m a virgin. What he did to me… I don’t count it. Because that can’t be my first experience with sex.”  
  
Derek doesn’t care if they’re two dudes. He envelopes Stiles in a huge hug and strokes his hair. Derek inhales deeply, the scent of strawberries filling his nostrils from Stiles’ shampoo. Stiles nuzzles into his neck and exhales. It’s like they’re one being breathing through each other.  
  
“I’m here now, Stiles. I’m so sorry this happened to you. I wish I could have been there. And that’s not what sex is, Stiles. That man was a predator. Making love is beautiful, and it’s supposed to make you feel warm and safe and wanted.”  
Stiles nods and sniffles.  
“You don’t have to be alone anymore. Okay Stiles? I’m here. And whatever I can do, I’ll look out for you. I’ll protect you. You’re my best friend and …”  
“Thank you,” Stiles mumbles from against Derek’s shirt. “You’re my best friend, too.”  
  
Derek looks up to the ceiling and weighs his options. His heart is thundering. Should he? Shouldn’t he?  
What if he ruins it all?  
Fuck it.  
  
They pull away, Stiles sitting right next to Derek now. His hands drop to Derek’s and now it’s the other boy who is trembling.  
“Stiles, I need to tell you something. I want you to know no matter what happens after, we’re best friends. We’ll always be best friends. Okay? I need you to know this.”  
“Okay, Der. Sure. I’m listening.”  
Derek swallows down bile. He prays he’s not making the biggest mistake of his life.  
“Stiles, I realized today that I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings. I think I might be in love with you. I think about you all the time and can’t wait to get to school so I can see you. I’m sorry to drop this on you, but you need to know how much I care about you, okay? I know you’re straight, and this can never happen, but that’s my problem to deal with not- ”  
  
Stiles interrupts him, studies his friend’s beautiful face. “I don’t know.”  
Derek pauses. “What?”  
Stiles smiles weakly. “I don’t know if I’m straight.”  
There’s the cautious hope rising in Derek, making his palms sweat and his body shiver.  
“What are you saying, Stiles?”  
  
He takes his time in replying. It’s not easy to gather his words. Describe what he’s feeling.  
“I always thought I was straight. But then when I stopped to think about it in recent days, I guess I admitted to myself I noticed little things about men, too. Since I met you, Der, I don’t know. Lately I’ve been thinking about you a lot, too. I think you’re funny and kind. And… you’re hot. Hotter than Jackson could ever hope to be. I think I realized something had changed when you told me the boathouse story. I felt… oddly jealous. I kinda wanted that to be me, I guess.”  
Derek’s darting his gaze. He’s shy and although what Stiles is saying is amazingly positive, he feels naturally embarrassed.  
“Stiles, I don’t want you to feel obliged just because-“  
  
Now it’s Stiles who hugs Derek. “Der, I’d never do that. I’d never say I had feelings when I don’t.” They breathe as one again and Stiles rubs Derek’s back.  
  
Sam intrudes, wanting some attention by putting his huge paws on their thighs and nudging. Both chuckle.  
“Here Sammy, here’s some love.” They pet the boxer until he’s satisfied and curls up on the rug again.  
  
Derek simpers, every cell in his body on fire. If he’s not the color of his t-shirt, it’s a miracle.  
“Der,” Stiles inches forward. “I don’t think I need to find a label for this. For me. Maybe I’m bisexual. Or maybe you’re just so special that I’m in love with Derek the person and not what his sex is.”  
  
It’s not easy for Derek to understand the confusion, because he’s always known he was gay. But he agrees with Stiles. Who cares? People are allowed to love regardless of gender.  
“Maybe, Stiles, we can find our own definition of love. Outside the dictionary.”  
Stiles grins, his adorable dimples dotting his cheeks. “I’d like that.”  
  
They sit for a minute, looking into each other’s souls. Then Stiles leans. His heart is in his throat.  
“Der?”  
Derek whispers back. “Stiles…” He looks from those wide cinnamon eyes to his full lips.   
“Der, can I kiss you?”  
  
Derek answers by angling in and nodding. Stiles caresses his cheeks with two wobbly hands before flattening his palms against them. Derek’s fingers clasp behind his neck.  
Lips meet, soft and moist.  
Stiles pulls away, gazing lovingly into Derek’s sea eyes. He kisses him again. Pulls away.  
Derek nips on Stiles' lower lip, smiling.  
Stiles changes sides, sealing their mouths. A shy tongue dabs Derek’s gap. One boy sighs and the other groans lightly when their tongues finally taste each other.   
  
Stiles lowers Derek down, pressing their bodies together. Derek teases Stiles' silky hair by twirling it. They break long enough for Stiles to whisper something naughty into Derek's ear.  
Derek laughs, almost crushing him in his strong embrace. Stiles wiggles but to no avail. "Nope, not letting you go so easily."  
The brunette stops struggling and kisses the tip of Derek's nose. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he answers truthfully.   
  
... to be continued

**Author's Note:**

> I don't mean to overshare, but I want to explain why I wrote this. Unfortunately when I was 16 I was sexually assaulted by my father's colleague. To this day I never told my parents, and it also made my coming out very difficult. What I want to portray here is that yes, it's very difficult to get past something like that. But time does help and a good support system is essential. Stiles finds the courage to love in this story, (and accept himself for who he is), and the same happened to me in almost identical circumstances.  
> Thank you for reading and if you've been through something similar, my heart goes out to you and I ask ... please talk to someone. Don't give up hope of healing. My life changed when I confessed to the boy who would then be my first love. Without him I might not be here today. Don't keep something like this inside because it will tear you up, I know first-hand. Sending light and love to all.  
> Titles and beginning lyrics are taken from songs from the album of the same name by Sarah McLachlan (which I wore out back when we still used cds).


End file.
